


On the Road Again

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A little angst, Falling In Love, M/M, Tension, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22159600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Sherlock is stressed after a few very hard cases but can't come down. John notices he wasn't able to sleep or relax at all so he suggests a vacation.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	On the Road Again

“I never will be going on a road trip again! Never!” Sherlock shouted at John.  
“I don't want you to go on a road trip! I want you to go on vacation with me!” John shouted back.  
“I don't do vacation, John! Vacations are tedious!” John felt a migraine coming up.  
“I want, I need you to relax, to come down. You are tense. You don't eat. You don't sleep. Please, Sherlock, I am worried about you.” Sherlock stared at John.  
“If you want me to feel better, bring me body parts, so I can proceed with my experiments.”  
“You could do experiments elsewhere.” Sherlock snorted.  
“Experiments on what? Crabs? Hedgehogs?” John looked at him.  
“Please, Sherlock, I am just trying. I am only suggesting things.”  
“Stop it!” Sherlock shouted.  
“Sherlock, you stop it right now!” John finally lost his temper and suddenly yelled at him. Sherlock stilled at once.  
“As your friend, no, as your doctor, I advise you to come down, to relax. Otherwise you will faint soon. Probably on a crime scene. Do you want that? They will probably film it with their phones, Sherlock. Please! I only want to help!” John threw his arms in the air and Sherlock started to think.  
Normally John wasn't like this, so insistent, so very not patient, so not John. And he had to admit to himself, he didn't feel good. Not at all. He felt exhausted and weak.  
He looked at John.  
“How could you tell I would be able to relax on a vacation?” John was surprised.  
“I would try my very best to make you relax.” He finally answered.  
“Really? How?” Sherlock stared at John and John swallowed.  
“I don't know yet. You need to tell me about what you would like to do when you are not here.”  
“I don't know.” John looked at him.  
“You surely must have been on vacation? Spain? Wherever?”  
“I have never ever been on vacation, John.”  
“Surely your family went on vacation to Switzerland or something?” But Sherlock shook his head.  
“No, John, not at all.”  
“But when you went to school? There must have been trips?” Now Sherlock nodded.  
“Yes, there were, but I never went. I always stayed behind because I preferred studying.”  
“But the purpose of school trips is to study something where you are going to.” Sherlock snorted.  
“Studying what? The insides of some girls’ mouths?” John just had to smile.  
“Maybe?” They looked at each other.  
“Listen, Sherlock. Please try it at least. For me? If you don’t like it, we could leave again any time.”  
“What do you have in mind then?” In Sherlock’s head were phantasies of a crowded beach in Spain.  
“Well, for sure I won’t force you into Spain. I want you to have some fun. So why don’t we go to the beach in Cornwall or Devon or Guernsey?” Sherlock considered it.  
“But I don’t want to go in a camping mobile or stay in a tent or some shady Bed & Breakfast. I want something nice, bathroom ensuite.” John nodded.  
“Sure, you want that. Even though …” But Sherlock shook his head.  
“No way, John. No camping trip!”  
“OK, but I’d like you to pack some hiking gear.”  
“I don’t own hiking gear, John.” Sherlock almost looked shocked but John just shoved his laptop over the table.  
“Then buy some. I am looking for some places and show you.” Sherlock agreed grumbling. John made him tea and brought him chocolate chip cookies which Sherlock snatched out of his hands at once.  
While Sherlock shopped high-end hiking gear John looked for a nice Bed & Breakfast at the south coast. He knew what Sherlock wanted, what he needed. He was also wicked enough to check the net down there and found them a place without any net whatsoever. He smiled and only then showed Sherlock two rather nice places to stay at.  
Sherlock was rather pleased with John’s choice and nodded his OK. John booked the fancier one and sighed. Sherlock only had concentrated on the place they would be staying at and not at the mentioning of Wi-Fi. Lucky John.  
“When will we be leaving?” Sherlock asked curiously. He was beginning to show interest in the whole thing. He also wanted to please his flatmate. He wanted a happy John around and he knew; he hadn’t been easy during the last weeks due to several very hard cases.  
“The day after tomorrow. We also need to rent a car.” John told Sherlock checking on the hiking gear his flat-mate had bought online.  
“I will ask Mycroft for one of his cars.” He just shrugged it off.  
“Thank you.” That made him look up and he looked surprised.  
“What for?” John smiled.  
“For doing this for me.” Now Sherlock smiled, too.  
“As I understood it, it was only for me to relax?” John smiled, too, and once ruffled through his hair when passing by.  
Sherlock had to close his eyes. His guts had coiled and sweat trickled down his spine. Just why?

***

The day they wanted to leave had come and John hopped down the stairs where he almost stumbled over several very posh pieces of luggage. He could hear Sherlock rummage in the bathroom.  
“Sherlock?” He dashed outside holding three washbags stuffed to the brim.  
“Yes? What’s up?” John looked at him and then at all the stuff on the floor.  
“That’s what I keep asking myself right now. What is all this?” Sherlock looked clueless.  
“It’s all mine. You wanted to go on vacation.” John pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“But we are only going for four days!”  
“You made me order hiking-gear!” He pointed at one very new looking back-pack on which sat boots and a brand-new jacket.  
“Have you packed jumpers for the cold?” Sherlock looked a bit shocked.  
“I don’t own any jumpers!” John sighed.  
“But what did you think? You need something to wear when it’s cold outside.”  
“You only wanted me to buy hiking-gear. I did do that. You didn’t tell me to buy jumpers!” Sherlock almost looked outraged and John rubbed his forehead.  
“OK, OK, then you could just wear two tees and two shirts.”  
“I actually thought I would sit in front of a fire when it’s cold.”  
“But not during the day.” They looked at each other and finally John just gave up.  
“Anyway, I need you to relax. Everything will work out. I will do my very best.” Sherlock smiled.  
“I know that.”

***

John rode the car over the motorway down to the coast. Sherlock sat on the passenger-seat and furiously typed on his mobile. Suddenly he yelled.  
“Stop the car, John!” John’s foot hit the break and they were lucky no cars were behind them or too close. The car skidded and John finally stopped by the side. He turned to Sherlock.  
“What the fuck, Sherlock?” But Sherlock just opened the door and climbed out of the car. He made a few steps on the acre and then fell to his knees poking into the ground. He got out a little bag and put some plants into it. Then he returned. John just looked at him.  
“What did you just do?” His voice was low and dangerous and finally Sherlock sensed that what he had done had been a bit not good. He cleared his throat and made big eyes. Normally it brought John down again.  
“I checked the route beforehand and only here a special plant grows which might be helpful to have in my database.” John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“You could have told me beforehand and I could have stopped properly. This was dangerous, Sherlock.”  
“No, it wasn’t. You had everything under control, perfectly so.” John didn’t know what to say and finally came up with:  
“Have you planned any more stops on the way?” Sherlock checked his mobile.  
“Only four.”  
“Where?” Sherlock held up his mobile for John to see. John just snatched it and had a closer look.  
“OK, I’ll take you there so you can collect your samples. You don’t have to yell again.” Sherlock smiled and took his phone back.  
“Thank you, John.” And it was Sherlock’s smile that did it. John felt much better and started the car again. He checked for other cars and hit the road again.  
Sherlock collected all his samples for his database and was very pleased. He kept typing into his mobile but the moment they arrived in the small village the net was gone. Sherlock paled. John smirked.  
After John had carried all their luggage into their room, he fell into an armchair. Sherlock hadn’t bothered about their luggage and relied on John as he always did. Now he desperately paced through the room holding up his mobile. Suddenly he stopped and looked at John for a few seconds.  
“What now?”  
“Now you are going to relax for a bit. Later we will be going for a walk and dinner.”  
“Relax how?”  
“Undress, get into some comfy clothes and get on your front on the bed.”  
“What?” Sherlock looked clueless.  
“Please?” Sherlock trusted John, so he just did what he wanted. And he was curious. That’s why he quickly fell on his knees in front of one of his bags, rummaged through it, pulled out his pyjamas, a tee and socks and then disappeared into the bath.  
John wiped over his face. He had been looking at his plush behind all the time and now he was hard. Fuck.  
He stood and adjusted his trousers willing it away. He opened his one and only bag and pulled out his washbag. There was some oil he had bought after having asked Mycroft for a good brand. The price had made him sweat again but he had bought it. For Sherlock he had bought it.  
He also got a beach towel out of his bag. He pulled back the duvet and placed it on the bed. Then he waited for him to come out of the bath.  
And when he did, he just pointed on the bed.  
“What are you up to? John?” Sherlock really wondered. He had no idea. And if this hadn’t been John, he would have taken off already.  
John could see that he was a bit uneasy, so he smiled up at him.  
“Please, lay down. I would like to give you a massage. See? I have a wonderful oil for your skin.” He held up the bottle and Sherlock relaxed. It really was good stuff. And he knew that John wouldn’t harm him. So, he finally climbed on the bed and settled on his front. He placed his head on his arms.  
John straddled him and shoved his tee up to his shoulders. Sherlock tensed but soon John’s warm hands moved over his back and sides and he was able to relax. John poured some oil on his skin and slowly and gently moved his palms over his body. He didn’t touch the hem of his pyjamas but he stuck his hands under his tee to reach his neck.  
Mycroft had asked him to not do more. He hadn’t explained it though and John had been a bit worried. But now he was able to feel how relaxed Sherlock had become.  
The moment Sherlock had fallen asleep, John stopped and carefully got off the bed. He smiled and cleaned his hands. He pulled up the duvet to keep him warm and poured a drink. He settled into the armchair with a drink and a book. Once and again he looked at Sherlock who peacefully slept. And John knew this had been a good idea.

***

Sherlock relaxed on the bed and beneath John’s warm hands. He enjoyed this treatment and closed his eyes. He fell asleep and when he slowly woke up again, he felt fantastic. He was warm and beneath a duvet. His lips turned upwards and he stretched his long limbs languidly.  
He knew though that John was here with him in their room. He opened his eyes and sat up. He ruffled his hair.  
“John?”  
“On your other side, Sherlock.” Sherlock looked over his shoulder and saw him. He smiled.  
“Thank you. You were bloody fantastic.” John blushed a little shade of red but smiled.  
“You are welcome.” Sherlock somehow looked expectantly.  
“What now?” John looked at him for a second.  
“Let’s get our jackets and go for a walk down the beach. Pub food afterwards?” Sherlock chewed his lips and had fantasies about a dirty kitchen and rest-rooms, old oil and other nasty things. But then he looked at John again who seemed to look forward to it. He sighed but only inwardly and stood to get dressed.  
He donned his new jacket and obediently followed John outside and down to the beach. There a heavy wind was blowing and his hair was everywhere. John just held up a hat and grumpily Sherlock put it on his locks. He followed John to a wall which divided the promenade from the beach and the water. He saw John holding up against the wind and got worried he might get blown away. He just hooked his arm through his and they moved on. John looked up at him. And he looked surprised. But happy. And he didn’t let go.  
Somehow Sherlock even enjoyed this. This was different from everything he had ever done. He knew he looked ridiculous in denims, the new jacket, and a hat but he didn’t mind. He felt good. No one knew him here anyway.  
Also, he was with John. And so far, John had been right. Sherlock already felt much better. He had even slept. And now he was hungry. He pulled at John’s arm and then pointed at his stomach. John raised his brows but smiled. He changed directions and led Sherlock into a pub.  
Sherlock had to admit that it looked rather nice. He got rid of his jacket and hat right away and occupied a table at the window as effortlessly as he hailed a cab in the middle of London. John smiled shaking his head and got them two beers.  
“What would you like to eat?” Sherlock shrugged.  
“I don’t know. There is no menu.” John grinned and shook his head.  
“The menu is right there.” He pointed at a blackboard where only two meals were written on. Sherlock turned his head and read “Fish & Chips” and “Ale Pie”.  
“I want “Ale Pie”.” He looked at John.  
“And I want “Fish & Chips.” John looked at Sherlock. They looked at each other and John realised that Sherlock waited for someone he could place his order with. John just placed his palm on his arm.  
“Never mind. I’ll go and get it.” John stood and ordered. He also brought two more beers. Sherlock looked at him.  
“I am sorry.” But John smiled.  
“Don’t be. There is no reason.”  
“I feel stupid.”  
“You know, that’s rather stupid.” They grinned and then someone shouted from the bar. John wanted to get up but Sherlock was faster.  
“No, let me.” He sauntered over and paid their food. Then he carried it back and placed it on their table.  
“Thank you, Sherlock.” John started to devour his food and Sherlock started on his pie, too. He was hungry for once and after the first two spoons he finished the whole pie.  
John got them a drink after dinner and more beer. Sherlock just hung on the bench and lazily looked at the other guests. John looked at Sherlock.

***

The wind had turned into a storm when they left the pub for their place. Both of them leaned into the force and moved forward only very slowly. They reached their room after quite a while and when they stood in their room and had shed their clothes John started to giggle.  
“What?” Sherlock asked. John’s face was flushed and he felt alive.  
“You look very much ruffled.” Sherlock turned around to look into the mirror in the bathroom.  
“Oh my God!” John heard him say and then he rummaged through his things. John grinned and changed into his comfy clothes while Sherlock tried to brush his hair back into its non-existing form. Then he built a fire. And then he found that he had forgotten his warm socks. He swore very inventively and made Sherlock come out again.  
“What is it? What happened?” He still held his brush and looked at John. His chest was bare. John swallowed.  
“I forgot my warm socks.” Sherlock pointed at one of his bags.  
“Take a pair of mine, John.” John smiled.  
“Thank you.” He opened the bag and found almost ten pairs of warm socks. He shook his head and took a pair he at once pulled over his already cold feet. The fabric was smooth and felt fantastic. Much better than his own socks.  
“John? I need your help!” Sherlock sounded a bit worried and John at once joined him in the bath.  
“What happened? Are you hurt?” John looked up at him and then saw the brush stuck in his hair. Sherlock’s eyes were wet so he had torn at it already and only made it worse.  
“Oh my, I see your problem. Sit down, please.” Sherlock sat on the toilet lid and looked up at John.  
John very carefully pulled at some hair and had a closer look. The strands were wound around the brush and he slowly began to unwind them hair by hair.  
John was the most patient man Sherlock had ever met and here it showed again. Sometimes he needed a bit of water but he made it. After one hour he had freed the brush. Or the hair.  
“Your skin up here is all red now.” Sherlock opened his wash-bag again and handed over a bottle with some oil.  
“Could you please rub this in?” John took the bottle and had a closer look. This was especially made for the skin on your head and was the same brand as the massage oil John had bought. He smiled and poured some into his hands.  
“OK, there you go. Hold still.” Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed when John started to massage his head with his fingers. He was strong. Sherlock wasn’t aware of the noises he made. But John was.  
“There you are.” John washed his hands and Sherlock thankfully looked at him.  
“I brought a bottle of wine. Would you like some?” He suddenly offered. John looked surprised.  
“Oh. Yes. That’s actually nice. I didn’t think of that.” Sherlock just stood and left the bath. John sighed and picked up the hair and cleaned the sink. He heard the door being opened and closed and wondered what Sherlock was up to. When he came out, he found he had organised two glasses and a bowl of nosh from downstairs.  
“You are impossible.” Sherlock looked up.  
“I thought …” Then he looked away again and John realised he was just self-conscious. He stepped up and placed his palm on his arm.  
“This is great. You are great.” Now Sherlock smiled again and handed John his glass.  
“What will we be doing tomorrow?” John was surprised. Sherlock wasn’t even complaining. Instead he seemed interested.  
“I thought about some hiking but we will have to see about the storm. If the storm is too heavy, we could do something indoor? Like swimming, climbing or tennis?”  
“You really thought about it, didn’t you? You really thought about things only for me?” Sherlock smiled and John shrugged.  
“Yes, well, of course I did. This is for you, this vacation. You are supposed to enjoy this.”  
“You are the best, John. But I also thought about you. We could do some fancy gotcha? Or ride a tank over the beach?” John just stared at Sherlock.  
“What is it? John? Not good?” Sherlock sipped his wine. John swallowed. He really got surprised.  
“But this is for you.”  
“You are here with me. I want you to have fun, too. And maybe you will be surprised?” Sherlock grinned.  
“You packed for every opportunity, am I right?”  
“I tried to foresee your plans and yes, I did.”  
“We will be having a splendid vacation.” John was very much convinced about that.

***

The next day he had to calm down the guy who owned the gotcha range after Sherlock had told him that it was absolutely necessary to use his own weapons because the ones provided were shit. He presented some high-tech weapons which made all the other people just gape at him. He stood there clad in olive cargo trousers, tee and jacket, helmet, and everything. Glasses were stuck on his helmet. He also was being checked out, both by men and women. He had provided everything for John, as well.  
“But Sir, it is not allowed. These weapons of yours are not allowed here. I am sorry.”  
“Why not? The military uses them. They can’t be too bad, can they?”  
“Of course, they aren’t bad. They are dangerous!”  
“I altered them. You don’t have to worry. See?” And he just turned and aimed. He hit a target right in the middle. It had been a perfect shot. The people applauded. The man sighed.  
“OK. Off you go.” He just gave up and Sherlock pulled John away and outside muttering curses and impolite things. John didn’t want to show him that he actually liked this, but he wasn’t able to hold back. He grinned and giggled.  
“You just made my day!” Sherlock just stared at John.  
“I thought you were going to punch me.” John almost choked.  
“No! You were hilarious. I like this!” He grabbed his weapon tight and moved on. Sherlock followed him. He smiled. He liked vacation John.

***

They had a wonderful time and much needed fun. Of course, Sherlock was the first to enter their bath. John shed his dirty clothes on the floor and stood there in his boxers. He was sweaty but felt alive. And he had been surprised. Sherlock was very skilled with a weapon. Every shot had been a hit. John’s blood still pumped through his veins and he loved it. He also felt aroused.  
The moment Sherlock came out of the bath only clad in a towel around his hips he dashed by and closed the door. Sherlock turned his head and was just able to get a view of his muscular behind. Of course, he had seen him naked before. Well, not that John knew about it. Sherlock had drugged his tea, sneaked into his room upstairs and looked at him. And he had liked what he had seen. He sighed.  
John let the warm water wash over him and took his prick between his fingers. He was hard. He closed his eyes and leaned against the tiles. He saw Sherlock clad in his fatigues and dirty olive clothes. His hair had been a mess but his smile had been great.  
He stroked his cock and pressed his finger into the slit. He bit his lip and enjoyed the tingling in his guts. He imagined Sherlock naked. And he came. Then he showered and took a fluffy towel. He hadn’t brought any clothes into the bath and knotted it around his hips. He ruffled his hair and left the steamy room.  
Sherlock sat in the armchair and turned his head looking at him.  
“Did you have a nice wank?” John stared at him. Then he furiously blushed and stood nailed to the ground. Sherlock shrugged and turned around again.  
“Well, I had.” John swallowed. Then he decided it was the best just to ignore it. He grabbed his clothes and went back into the bath. Sherlock sighed and shook his head.  
Failure. He needed to try again.  
John returned and cleared his throat.  
“Do we have something left to drink?” Sherlock stood and shook his head.  
“Not left, no. But I provided new drinks. See?” John came closer and Sherlock showed him a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey. There was also fresh nosh. John smiled.  
“Oh, that’s just great. Thank you, Sherlock.” He fell on the sofa. Sherlock poured drinks and sat by his side.  
“Here you are, John.”  
“Thank you.” They looked into each other’s eyes over the rim of their glasses. John sipped a bit.  
“I liked today; you know? It was a wonderful day.” Now Sherlock smiled.  
“Me, too. I liked today, too. All of today.” John blushed again.

***

The next morning John woke because something heavy rested on top of him. He blinked his eyes open and found himself pressed chest down into the mattress. Sherlock was half on top of him. His long leg was placed over his body and his head hung over his middle. He wasn’t moving and he was very warm. John could feel his steady heartbeat. He could also feel his morning wood. And Sherlock was too close for comfort. Way too close.  
“Sherlock?” No reply. Was the wanker already awake? He listened to his breathing pattern and found he wasn’t.  
“Sherlock, mate. Wake up! Please?” Still no reply. He tried to shove him off and now got a reaction. He mumbled something in his sleep but moved only a little bit. The little bit included his hand moving under John’s tee. His palm was flat and warm on his stomach. John’s cock found it really interesting, the whole fucking procedure.  
But as much as he enjoyed this, he wasn't able to forget the words Mycroft had spoken. He wouldn't take advantage of Sherlock. Slowly he moved out from under his arm and got up. He looked at him. Sherlock was sprawled all over the bed by now and rested on his front. He was facing him and by now he was about to wake up. John could see that. There already was a frown on his face.  
John just went through his bathroom-routine and when he came out, he was dressed up for the day. Sherlock instead sat against the headrest rubbing his eyes.  
“Why are you up already?”  
“Because it's 9 already and I want to have breakfast. Don't you?” Sherlock almost looked shocked.  
“9 already? Just get me a cup of coffee. Thanks.” And he threw himself back on the mattress puling the blanket all the way up.  
“Oh Sherlock, please? Get up and have breakfast with me.” Sherlock sighed but looked at John again. Finally, he just got up and slumped into the bath. He showered and actually tried to be quick. They made it for breakfast.  
John got him everything from the buffet he wanted and Sherlock was rather pleased again. When they were sitting with their last cup of coffee Sherlock looked at John.  
“What are your plans for today?” Sherlock asked making John look up from his cup.  
“It seems the weather has cleared up. We could do the hiking? I planned a tour already.” John was a bit excited.  
“Of course, you did. Well, OK. I didn't buy the gear for nothing, did I?” They got ready and John had their backpacks ready.  
“Where are we going?” Sherlock curiously asked. John smiled.  
“We will be driving a bit north and I found us a wonderful route. We will be having a picnic.”  
“Picnic?” Sherlock sounded shocked.  
“Outside?” Even more shocked.  
“Don't worry. I will be making a fire and you won't freeze to death with me. You do trust me, don't you?”  
“Of course, I trust you, John.” They rode north for an hour until John parked the car. He helped Sherlock with his backpack and adjusted the harness around him. Again, he handed him a hat and Sherlock grudgingly took it.  
“Let's go.” Sherlock just followed John and they walked for about two hours until John stopped for the first time.  
“Look around you, Sherlock. Isn't it beautiful?” Dutifully Sherlock did look around and found John was right.  
“It is, yes. Oh, look ...” He hurried over to some greens and leaned forward forgetting about the weight on his back. John saw it in time and held him back before he could fall forward.  
“Oh ...” He swayed but stood again. John just raised his brow and reached out for his backpack. The moment it was gone Sherlock reached into one of his pockets and retrieved a plastic-bag normally used for evidence.  
“Jesus, how many did you bring?” Sherlock nonchalantly shrugged.  
“Enough. Don't worry.” He fell on his knees and carefully collected some wild flowers and plants in different bags.  
“I am not worried at all.” John muttered and sat on a rock close by. He watched Sherlock crawl all over the place collecting whatever things he thought might be worth to be collected. John checked the time and decided he wouldn't go further. Instead he made a fire by the rocks he sat on. Sherlock didn't even notice until he got poked.  
“Sherlock, I have made hot tea. Come on over, please. The greens won't go poof.”  
“Go away, John.” Now John shook him by his arm.  
“Sherlock, I am not going away. Please?” Angrily Sherlock looked up and met John's eyes. And it was as if waking up.  
“It's cold.” He questioningly looked at John who just nodded.  
“I know. That's why I made tea. Come on over and sit on the mat.” John let go of his arm and Sherlock followed him. He was given a mug and thankfully sipped the hot tea.  
“I have collected many useful plants, lots of new data. I am really very happy.” He grinned at John who just shook his head.  
“Sounds good to me, Sherlock.” They looked at each other both very happy for totally different reasons.  
Sherlock finished his tea and stood. He rubbed his hands looking at John.  
“Let's move on. There are for sure more great places like this.” But disappointingly John shook his head.  
“No, it's too late. We have to go back or we will end up in the dark.”  
“But ...” Sherlock moved in a circle. John was already taking care of the fire and generally cleaning up.  
“We can move along tomorrow. We still have a few days left.” Sherlock sighed but started to carefully store his plastic-bags. He shouldered his back-pack and followed John back to their car.  
John looked at him and saw he was cold. In the car John switched the heating on and Sherlock looked thankful. He huddled against the door still clad in his jacket, hat, and gloves. John felt a bit bad.  
Back in their room he helped Sherlock getting rid of his shoes because his frosty fingers weren't able to untie his laces.  
“I am preparing a bath for you, Sherlock. And I will build a fire.” Sherlock just watched him. And when his bath was finally prepared, he quickly shed his clothes not minding John being right by his side. He furiously blushed but Sherlock didn't notice.  
Normally he noticed everything but he was blind to all the signs John sent out.  
John watched him settle down in the very warm water. Then he just left and closed the door. Again, he had to adjust his pants. He checked on the fire and then unpacked their back-packs. He carefully placed all plastic-bags on the little table to leave them for Sherlock to sort through.  
He finally sat cross-legged in front of the fire and closed his eyes. This was nice.  
“John?” Suddenly Sherlock’s voice made John get up.  
“Yes?” He stood in front of the door but didn't enter.  
“Oh, I just wondered if you were still there.” John closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the door.  
“Why would I be gone?” The water splashed a bit until Sherlock’s answer came through.  
“I wondered. I mean, I haven't been doing what I was supposed to do. Instead of hiking with you I stopped you to collect plants and flowers.” Now John's ears perked up.  
“It's not about what I want you to do. This is about you relaxing. And if you like to collect plants and flowers, you will do just so.” More splashing.  
“Are you saying I didn't disappoint you?” John shook his head.  
“Oh, of course not! How could you think such a thing?” This time there wasn't an answer. John waited for a bit but then went back to sit by the fire. After a while Sherlock appeared clad in comfy clothes and sat down by his side. Carefully he reached out and placed a hand on John's arm.  
“I thought you might leave because I wasn't doing what I was expected to do.” John only looked at his hand.  
“That's a very, very stupid thing to think.” But Sherlock shook his head.  
“No, it's not. You were very upset before when I didn't want to come along.”  
“So, you just came along because I was upset?” Carefully Sherlock nodded.  
“Oh God ...” John pressed his hands against his face and slowly shook his head.  
“I don't want you to be angry with me. It means, you don't like me anymore which means, you might leave me again.” John didn't look up so Sherlock continued.  
“I couldn't stand that.” He dropped his hand. Now John looked up.  
“I must be the most horrid man. You are afraid of me. I only meant well. Always.”  
“But sometimes you get very angry with me. You are yelling at me. You are throwing your arms around. Your eyes are getting dark.” Now John seriously looked at him.  
“Are you afraid of me, Sherlock?” Sherlock slowly nodded.  
“Sometimes.” John slowly exhaled.  
“I don't know what happened to you before. I only know what happened to me because of you.” Sherlock carefully looked up through his hair and lashes.  
“What happened to you, John? What did I do to you?” He sounded desperate. John just shook his head.  
“You saved my life, Sherlock. If we wouldn't have met, I soon enough would have killed myself. I too often had the barrel of my gun pressed to my head. I didn't want to go on. My life sucked. No, that's wrong. I had no life that could even suck.” Sherlock had no idea what he was supposed to do, what was appropriate in this situation. So, he just kept looking and saw the tear falling from his eye. Now he was shocked.  
“John? Please don't cry.” John sobbed once and tried to stop. Sherlock remembered that Mycroft had hugged him when he was a child and had been crying because everybody was mean to him and he had felt so bad. So, he hugged John now very carefully.  
John slung his arms around him and hugged him back and rather strongly so. He came down after a few minutes and let go. At once Sherlock let go, too.  
“I need a drink.” John stood and at first blew his nose. Sherlock didn't say anything but was handed a drink, too. His eyes wandered over to his plastic-bags and he cast his eyes. John saw that and sat by his side again.  
“This is not about your flowers and plants, Sherlock. This is about us. Somehow somewhere something went wrong. We need to find out what. I don't want us to have problems. I don't want our friendship to be in danger. It just can't be.”  
“I know I am different. Very often difficult. But you at once cared for me. I wanted to be your friend. And you let me. I tried to do better and somehow it seemed to work. Not always, no. Every time you stormed off, I spent hours thinking what went wrong. Sometimes I got an idea but sometimes I never understood. The only thing I know is you can't ever leave me again. You said I saved your life. I need to correct you, John. You saved mine, multiple times.” Sherlock very slowly reached out and took John's hand between his.  
John smiled again. He used his free hand to put it on top of Sherlock’s.  
“You must know I won't ever leave you. Unless you kick me out.” That made Sherlock look up.  
“I never would kick you out, John!” He sounded shocked.  
“Then we both can be assured that nothing bad is going to happen. Whatever weird thing you are doing, I am not going to leave. I may storm out again, yes. But I will always return to you.”  
“Why?” Sherlock asked.  
“Why do you want me to stay?” John asked. Sherlock wasn't able to find words to describe his feelings. So instead he lifted John's hands and kissed them.  
John's reply was a broad loving smile which was answer enough. For a very long time they sat huddled together in front of the fire.


End file.
